The Pope has recently been stressing in his homilies how close the Lord is to us. Today, I caught part of the message and didn’t really listen to much more. I heard the Pope say: “The Lord hears our restlessness. He knows it.” This was part of a larger idea that he was preaching on, but these words struck me.

I was up earlier than normal for this quarantine time. I went for a run, up and down the street of the enclosed complex… and then I sat on the patio, listened to some chant from Fontgombault, watched the birds come and eat the crumbs from the kids yesterday (I am staying with a young family). Another friend passed by for his morning walk with his baby. As I write, the owls are still hoo-ing along with the other noises of the animals in the nearby hillside.

Sitting here: this friend, that acquaintance, this monk, that other monk I met once, that one priest who heard my confession in Spain, that other priest in Sicily, this married couple, and that other married couple, that single woman consecrated in private vows, those many men I was in seminary with who are now priests or have gotten married with one or four kids or who are still figuring their lives out. All of these people — so many whom I have encountered over these years, in my studies and in my discernment — come to mind this morning. And each in their own unique experience. Their daily prayers. Their daily joys. Their daily anguish. Their sighs, their tears, their happiness in prayer. The Lord hears our restlessness. The Lord listens to our restlessness. He knows it. This isn’t a melodramatic post, full of melancholy. It is one of amazement, of wonder at the Lord’s closeness to each and every one of these people, to each of us, to everyone. Each one of us can’t do everything — we only live one vocation. Most importantly, the full living of that vocation is simply just living, being ourselves. Focus on this today – what this means. It doesn’t have to be so complicated. The Lord is already in your midst. He is with you. He hears your restlessness. He listens. Do you speak?

Don’t overcomplicate it. I know I do, quite often… We don’t have to.